Authors: Cheryl Brooks
Tags: #Romance
However, not even the smallest part of the world belonged to him. He had only his service, his devotion, and his love to offer her. They were hers for the taking.
He
was hers for the taking. Somehow, his feelings toward her were different from the way he felt about Nick. He would always love the viscount and forever be his devoted servant, but…
I am her slave.
No other word came close to expressing his connection to her. The astonishing thing was how quickly it had happened. Nick had known her longer—perhaps it was his description of her that made Will accept her so easily. Nonetheless, as he stepped into his trousers and buttoned his shirt, he wanted to leave them off and never wear them again in her presence.
Her naked slave boy…
The mere thought made him long to be just that.
But, of course, he could do nothing of the kind. The other servants would get wind of it eventually, and what happened after that would depend on how open-minded those men and women were. Somehow, Will didn’t think they’d be open enough for any of it to continue. Nick and Juliet would still be married, but what would happen to the poor footman?
He would be the one forced out of the ménage—no legal recourse, no rights, no nothing. She could promise to be Nick’s wife, and the law would hold her to that vow. William had no hold on anything. The precarious nature of their relationship nearly made him ill.
Giving both of them a weak smile, William set about gathering up the remains of their luncheon. He’d stowed everything in the hamper and was folding up the blanket when Nick put a hand on his shoulder.
“Is something troubling you?”
As always, Nick’s deep, caressing murmur sent legions of thrills skittering down his spine. “No, my lord. I am simply…overcome by the turn of events.”
“Overcome? With what? A fit of the sullens? Pangs of regret? You should be rejoicing. Come now, William. Out with it.”
Juliet’s nod revealed her understanding of his situation. “You and I are in the same boat, are we not? We have no rights whatsoever.”
“What the devil do you mean by that?” Nick demanded.
“She speaks the truth,” Will replied. “As your wife, she becomes your property, and I am merely your servant.”
The viscount’s glare should’ve struck terror in their hearts, and perhaps it would have, had Juliet not rescued them both with her tinkling laugh.
“We seem to have driven him to Point Nonplus,” she remarked.
“I’ll say, you have,” Nick agreed. “What about love, Will? What about our feelings for one another? Do you mean to say those feelings mean
nothing
?”
Will had no idea what to say.
Fortunately, Juliet did. “I’m sure they mean a great deal to him, but you must see that you have the upper hand in this arrangement.” She paused, frowning. “I cannot call it a marriage, but that is essentially what it is—a marriage between three people. And it must remain a secret. How shall we ever do it?”
“We would have to be discreet in the extreme,” Will said, finding his tongue at last. “No one could ever know.”
Juliet nodded. “Our children couldn’t even know the truth. Do we each feel that we can live our lives in secret?”
Taking the blanket from Will, Nick shoved it beneath the carriage seat and rounded on Juliet. “Now, hold on. You accepted my proposal, my lady. Do you mean to go back on your promise?”
“No,” she replied. “But William has brought my attention to a peculiar dilemma. Should we ever be discovered, he would be the one to suffer.”
“Which is why we will be damned careful,” Nick declared, turning to Will. “D’you really believe I’ve spent all this time loving you and never given this so much as a thought?”
“No,” Will said slowly. “I don’t.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “But if it comes to that, I
will
be the one to go.”
“I don’t
want
you to go, Will.” Nick’s tone was gentle, pleading. “I loved you long before I knew Juliet existed. I’ll not give you up so easily.”
Juliet smiled. “I thought as much. Good to hear it, though—is it not, William?”
“It is, indeed,” Will said as relief washed through him.
She truly
did
understand. Nick, on the other hand, clearly did
not.
“What the deuce are the two of you talking about?”
“Poor Nick.” Juliet took his hand, giving it a soothing pat. “I suppose you cannot help being a viscount, any more than my father can help being an earl.”
Nick stared at her, bewilderment written plainly on his face. “I suppose not, but what has that got to do with anything?”
She clucked her tongue. “You are among the privileged few—one of those people we address as ‘my lord.’ But in truth, you are not a lord, any more than Will is or I am. We are all simply people. Some richer, some poorer, some more intelligent and others as dumb as dirt, but we all matter. We all have dreams and hopes and plans. The fact that you are in
our
plans makes you what you are. Not what you possess.”
“Love,” Nick whispered. “You are talking about love.”
“Of course,” Will said. “I love you. You love me. We will both love Juliet. She will be ours forever.”
“And to do this, we, what? Set sail for America?”
Juliet snorted a laugh. “Not likely. A more Puritanical society has seldom existed. No, what we must do is fall madly in love and live happily ever after.”
“What drivel,” Will said. “All we have to do is
make
love. The emotion will follow.”
Nick waved this aside. “None of that now, Will. I need to think about this.”
“Then think. But you might want to drive us home first.
Then
you can think.”
* * * *
Nick felt as though a whirlwind had scooped him up and thrown him into the sky. Will untethered the horses while Nick assisted Juliet into the phaeton. Taking the seat beside her, he gathered up the reins as Will released the horses and climbed up behind them.
The strangest moments of his life had just passed, and he had no idea what to make of them. He was a peer with a title and an estate and a seat in the House of Lords. Yet these two people meant more to him than any of those things. Well, William did. He wasn’t sure about Juliet—yet. Her steady gaze and enigmatic smile confused him. Had he made a mistake? Would she blow their world apart or be the cement that held it together? Nick had no idea. He drove his horses onward, waving at the people they passed. Did they see him as a lord or as a man? He’d never considered the matter before.
“I still don’t understand,” he said at last. “Are we a threesome or not?”
“We
are
, Nicholas,” Juliet replied. “But we are an
equal
threesome, whether William likes being told what to do or not.”
“I am your slave, my lady,” Will declared. “I will fall at your feet and do whatever you ask of me.”
“Hmph.” Reaching back, she smacked his arm with her fan. “Good thing I’m not the insane, sadistic type.”
Nick’s eyes widened. “My God. Where did you ever hear—”
“I did not
hear
any of it,” she said with a wry smile. “I read it—in books.”
“She reads quite a lot,” Will said. “Hadn’t you noticed?”
“I have now. Tell me, Juliet. Have you come across any tales of a woman in love with two men?”
“No,” she replied. “Perhaps I shall write one myself.”
She writes books?
“Oh, really?”
“I have been known to dabble with pen and paper on occasion. Nothing published, of course—my father would never allow it—however, if I am ever to write such a book, I must first do some research.” Her smile grew coy. “Would you care to assist me?”
“I believe I would—at least, I
think
I do.” Nick couldn’t help thinking he’d fallen into a story that was already in the process of being written—and he was
not
the author.
“And you, William?” she asked. “May I include you? I have already tasted a man’s cock and seen one man—what was the word you used? Fuck?—another. I am very much interested to learn how two men make love to one woman—although, I must admit, I have my suspicions.”
“As I have said before, I shall be your slave,” Will replied. “Yours to command in any manner you see fit. However, if you were to ask me for any
ideas
I might have on the subject, I would be more than willing to share them with you.”
“What
are
your ideas, Will?” she asked. “I would very much like to hear them.”
Will chuckled. “And I would prefer to
demonstrate
them.”
Juliet opened her fan, fluttering it before her face. “Oh,
my
…”
Nick wasn’t fooled. She was no simpering miss. Oh, no. Not their Juliet. She was a force to be reckoned with, as was his footman. “My dear William, I do believe we’ve created a monster.”
“Ah, yes,” Will said with a nod. “But she is
our
monster.”
The next morning brought with it a chilly drizzle, the brilliant sunshine of the previous day now nothing but a memory. Juliet sat waiting in the music room, allaying her anxiety on the keys of the pianoforte while Rotherford asked the earl for her hand. Now that she’d had a taste of freedom, the thought of returning to the virtual prison that her family home had become filled her with dread.
What if her father refused?
The idea that Rotherford might actually have to promise to vote in accordance with the earl’s wishes was distasteful in the extreme. No man should have to sacrifice his better judgment in order to marry the woman of his choice.
Then again, perhaps men don’t always have a choice, either.
She glanced up as William entered with a tea tray. “I thought perhaps you would like some refreshment, my lady.”
With a grateful smile, she accepted the cup. “Bless you, Will.”
His nearness was a tremendous comfort to her—which was fortunate since that was all he could provide at the moment. How would it feel to have him sitting there beside her, an arm draped around her shoulders?
That will never happen.
The risks were too great for such intimate behavior when they might be discovered at any moment—perhaps by another guest or, even worse, her mother.
“How
do
you two manage it?” she asked, keeping her voice low. “Do you never forget yourselves in moments of distress or great joy?”
“It becomes a habit after a while—or a careful performance to divert suspicion. We once rehearsed a scene where Nick took me to task for neglecting to iron his shirts properly.” He smiled fondly at the memory. “Sometimes it is more a shared jest than a charade.”
“I can see where that might be amusing, but do you never grow tired of the sport?”
He shook his head. “It makes our time alone together that much more precious.”
Juliet returned his fond smile with one of chagrin. “If all goes well, you may never be
alone
together again. Does that disturb you?”
“When
you
will be the one with us? Hardly.”
Juliet sighed. “I hope you are right. Still, I cannot help thinking that we may be taking a step that will render
three
people acutely unhappy, rather than the usual two.” Perhaps it wasn’t the proper attitude to take when embarking upon marriage—a bride should be optimistic and hopeful, not troubled or anxious.
I am being realistic.
“My lady, you have nothing to fear. We can give you such pleasure. I will do—” Approaching footsteps stopped him in midsentence.
Juliet gave him a sly wink. “Thank you for the tea, William. It was precisely what I needed.”
His brief smirk filled her with excitement.
So this is how it feels to be a coconspirator!
They would be pulling the wool over the eyes of the world—the stuffy, pompous world of the
ton
. To be sure, she might tire of the game eventually, but at the moment, William was right. She found it positively delightful.
Lady Spencer tottered in on the arm of her pompous nephew, Lord Brough. “My dear,” she said in the over-loud voice of one whose own hearing is less than acute, “could you play something bright and cheerful? This incessant rain has my rheumatism in a dreadful state.”
“It would be my pleasure, Lady Spencer,” Juliet replied. “Pray, be seated.”
“Is there anything I can do for you, my lady?” William asked the dowager, his manner one of concerned solicitude. “An herbal tisane, perhaps?”
Settling herself in a soft chair with a grimace, Lady Spencer was nonetheless able to beam a warm smile at William. “Why, yes. That might be just the thing. So kind of you to offer it.”
“I shall bring it directly.” William bowed and took his leave, winking at Juliet on his way out.